Solitary Survival
by asylums-angel
Summary: My name is Keith and my hometown has been overcome by the Infection. Now I'm traveling across the state in search of my friend Ellis. And in search of survial. reverse side of the story Rated for future violence and other possibly suggestions.
1. Good Morning, Green Flu

**AN: This story follows Keith, the friend who Ellis is constantly talking about throughout Left 4 Dead 2. It tells his side of the story from his first encounter with the infection. It will probably have some twists here and there and he will probably meet up with Ellis in some way or form in the future. Here we go.. **

They say the virus is relentless. That once it has you, it takes you over completely and you become something else entirely. Filled with a rage and hunger that you can't control. Though you have to wonder if what they say is true. Does it erase who you are completely or is the person you once were still in there somewhere?

It's hard not to think about something like that when you're blowing their brains out.

_ '...that they're saying to stay indoors as much as possible and to seal off your windows with plastic sheeting. The officials state that they are doing their best to contain-"_

A groan escaped my throat as I turned off the radio that was giving the same dull report. _Again. _The news was that some kind of sickness had been spreading in the north eastern parts of the country for about two weeks now. The popular name for it was the _Green Flu _and it was causing quite a fuss. To some people at least.

"We should probably be listening to that, y'know. It sound dangerous."

I glanced over at the girl who would usually take shop shifts with me with a yawn. "Krista, we got nothin to worry about. That shit's still up in the northern parts. Doubt it'll get here any time soon. It's just some retards getting rabies, anyway. Everyone just makes it out to be somethin it's not. Over exaggeration, y'know?"

"Yeah, and I think you're too unconcerned for your own good."

I laughed, turning the radio back on and switching it to a music station. It is true that I was a very nonchalant kind of guy. I just didn't see the point in worrying over things. Especially in this part of town, nothing very exciting ever happens. I've known some of my friends to say that the weird things that _I _did was more entertaining than anything else most of the time. I guess you could call me a stunt bug, always getting into trouble and doing things that could get me killed. Maybe danger called to me or something. It certainly left a mark.

_'...Can he outrun this crusading mob of men who aim to kill him with the crucifix they'd fished out of...'_

"So what's Ellis up to today, anyway?"

"Huh?" I looked at her as she restocked the shelves with ground coffee.

"Ellis. He's not in the shop today. Somethin important come up?"

"I reckon it must've been. That shop's like his baby." I lean on the counter and smile at the thought. I had known Ellis for seventeen years and even way back then, he's wanted to open up a mechanics shop of his own. He was certainly the best in town and for the past two years his dream had been a reality, gaining ownership of the shop, gas station, and this market attached to it. "He said it had to do with some family matter."

_'...Could he ever find forgiveness from those gospels he came to preach...'_

I yawned, staring out the window. The day was going by at an almost excruciating pace and only a few customers had stopped in since the morning. I wasn't worried about that sickness that had apparently been spreading like wildfire, but it was certainly true that ever since information about it had been released, more and more people _were _staying inside.

"...Keith. Hey, _Keith! _Customer."

I turned around to face the front of the store and sure enough there was some guy there, making his way over to the counter. Though there was something not quite right about the way he moved. He dragged his feet and his arms hung limply at his sides. Probably drunk.

"Good afternoon, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?" No answer. The guy just stared at me with his bloodshot eyes. I held back a sigh, making my voice a bit louder. "Sir? How can I help you?" The only response I got was a low, grumbling _grunt. _Glancing over at Krista, I let out my sigh and got a shrug from her. "Look, man, if you're drunk, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. You listenin-" I cut my sentence short as the man threw his fist in my direction. "Whoa! Hey, what the _hell _man!?" Scowling, I shoved him across the counter, to move him away. "Leave _now._" I guess he didn't hear me or didn't care because he gave another grunt and turned, only to head towards Krista at a faster pace. "Hey!" Grabbing the shotgun from underneath the counter, I leapt over and ran in between the two, hitting the guy with the butt of the gun. "Get the _hell _out!" I grabbed him by his jacket and dragged him towards the door, noticing the dank smell that was coming from him. The guy barely put up a fight as I shoved him out and closed the door behind him, frowning. Then I noticed the group standing beyond.

"What the hell was up with that guy?" Krista sighed, shaking her head. She looked in my direction and paused. "What's wrong?"

I stared out the glass doors, frowning. "Either we got a group of drugged up drunks or somethin _is _wrong..."

Krista frowned, making her way over to look outside. Maybe ten feet away from the store stood a fairly large group of people swaying and staring off blankly. They all looked incredibly sick. "Keith...this doesn't look good... What if it's that flu things?"

"No way." I frowned, looking out and noticing a few more groups. "There's no way it could spread that _quickly, _right? There must've been some big, stupid party or something that went wrong. Really bad hangovers and whatnot..." That was when another man from the nearest group broke away and ran at the door and started banging on the glass, causing Krista to jump and lock it.

"That's _not _a hangover, Keith!" She looked around for anything useful, then went for the side door leading to the garage. "We need to get the others... We gotta get out of here."

Frowning, I reached for the desk phone and put it to my ear only to find it dead. "Shit." I grabbed the rest of the ammunition from behind the counter and went after Krista as she reached for the handle of the side door. "Wait. Be careful."

She nodded slowly, turning the knob and peeking out to the garage beyond. Hesitantly, she pushed it open and went through. "Where is everybody?" The garage was completely empty, everything left as it was and the door hanging wide open.

"Maybe... Maybe they ran. Got the hell outta here. Or maybe..." I glanced out to the bunches of people wandering outside.

"No! There's no way they would leave without us! There's no way Martin would-"

"Shush!" I warned, putting a finger to my lips. "You want those crazies out there to hear you?" She gave a slow nod and I sighed. Martin was Krista's boyfriend; a real cool blackie who knew his way when it came to machines. It was true; there was no way he would leave her willingly. I grabbed a crowbar off the closest workbench and handed it to her, receiving a worried look. "Just in case," I assured her. "We don't know if we'll be attacked again." She gave a helpless sigh and took it from me, hanging her head. I looked back outside to see one of the groups running in our direction. "Back door. _Now._" Grabbing her wrist, we ran to the back door only to find more sickly looking people wandering about. "Shit. No fucking way. Up to the roof top. Come on."

Krista goes up the latter first and she moved to the center of the roof swiftly, sitting down and letting out a heavy sigh. "This is some crazy rabies..." she mutters.

I climb up on top of the large generator on the roof and look out at the grounds below. All up and down the street are random groups of people wandering aimlessly. "Yeah... Very crazy..."

I had been wrong not to worry. Very wrong. In only three weeks, the infection had spread down the east coast and had now crawled its way into my home town of Savannah, Georgia. It began with disbelief, but then panic began to set in.

**Well... Not sure how that went... Haha.**


	2. Never Alone

**AN: Here we go again. Strangely fast update. Shit just got real. Lemme know what you think afterwards.**

My name is Keith Taylor. Three days ago I was your average southern town daredevil. At a time like this, I'm pretty glad I did all of those stunts back home, what with it coming in handy while dealing with a zombie apocalypse.

Zombie apocalypse.

I never would have believed it. In three days what we thought was some kind of rabid flu has turned into a God damned _zombie apocalypse._ Everyone is either _dead _or _crazy. _It's all we can do to stop ourselves from becoming either. I used to not want to kill anybody with the thought that they might still be human somewhere inside, but... You have to force yourself to think that there _isn't _anyone in there anymore. They ain't human anymore. They're just monsters.

I stand next to Krista as we catch our breath from mowing down the last wave of horde. Looking over at her, I put a hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze to let her know I'm here for her. She was doing okay until this morning when she found her brother. Only her brother tried to kill her and eat her insides.

Now it was sometime in the afternoon and we took shelter in the supply closet of a motel that was said to be a temporary safe house for survivors. Looks like it was _very _temporary. Luckily some people left supplies when they moved on, looking out for those who might come after them. At least that's what I'd like to think.

"Keith..." she mutters, staring down at the pistol she picked up a while back. I had to help her figure it out at first. Krista was one of the only people I knew who didn't know how to fire a gun. "They're all dead, Keith... All of them."

"Now don't you go thinkin that, Krista." I told her with a frown. "We don't know what for sure. We've only seen a few that we knew and those guys we met earlier are probably doin just fine. Don't forget we're all a stubborn bunch down here. We don't go down without a fight."

She gave the smallest of smiles, shaking her head. "How is it that you can be so optimistic all the time, boy? Even in all this..."

"Well, I try my best." She gave another smile and looked out through the crack in the door. To tell you the truth, I didn't believe my words half of the time, though I would never admit that to her. Krista was a fragile girl and I needed to look out for her as best as I could. "I'm sure Martin and the others are just fine, too." I just kept telling myself that. That everyone was okay. That Ellis was okay. I couldn't allow myself to think that there was any possibility at all that he might not have made it. No way in hell.

I had met Ellis when I was eight years old and he was seven. We got into a fist fight over something and our friend Dave was the one to break it up. The three of us were best friends ever since. We would do everything together and I cared about him more than anything in the whole wide world. After all, they were the closest thing I had to any sort of family next to my drunk ass father. But Ellis... Ellis was something special. I think I would die inside if I ever lost him.

"C'mon. We should get our asses moving." I picked up my shotgun, reloading it before moving to the door. "All clear?"

"Seems so..." Krista tightened her grip on the pistol she carried and pushed the door open, aiming down the empty hall as I aimed in the opposite direction.

"Alright. This way." I ran down the hall towards the opposite end of where we came in, keeping an eye out. Krista fired her gun at something behind us and I burst through the back exit door into the parking lot beyond. I looked around at any sign that might have been left by other survivors indicating the direction to go. And there is was. Across the way was a scrappy little house spray painted on the wall of an apartment complex, an arrow pointing to the side door. "Come on. Strait ah-" A sharp pain under my left eye caught my attention as a large chunk of cement went flying past my head and I heard Krista shout 'tank'. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward to get moving as I ran backwards, firing rounds into the lumbering mass of mutated flesh and bone. But of course it wouldn't be enough.

So we ran like hell. Across the street seems like a much father distance when you have a zombie horde chasing after you. Add a Tank on top of that and its damn near impossible. But then again, I've been known to do impossible things. I forced a laugh as another slab of cement was thrown are way, casing us to veer to the right. "This Tank sure loves to throw things, doesn't it? Maybe it was a football player." I ducked as a smaller chunk was thrown overhead.

Krista rolled her eyes, frowning. "Don't joke about that."

"Yeah, okay." I smiled, getting to the iron supported door, pulling it open for her and rushing inside as soon as she was. We barricaded the door as fast as we could as the Tank banged on the outer walls. Luckily it gave up after a while and we both sat down with sighs of relief. I checked the side of my cheek to make sure I wasn't bleeding too bad and gave a small smile. Just another scar.

"Wow..." Krista said, looking at the walls. "This one has more writing than the others..." She started reading off the warnings and notes to other survivors. "Hey Keith... You might wanna come read this."

I looked over, stifling a yawn. Three days of no sleep can take its toll on you and I was hoping to get some shut eye, but I got up and walked over to where she was standing. She gave a quiet 'look' and pointed to two separate notes on the wall addressed to the two of us.

_Keith_

_I've got a feelin in my gut that you're_

_still out there, so I'm gonna let you know_

_what's goin on. The freakin zombies attacked_

_while we were on lunch and we didn't have time_

_to come back. Sorry about that. Now it's just_

_me, Tim, and Martin, but that might change._

_Got word that Ellis is headed to New Orleans_

_with a few others, so that's where we're goin._

_See ya there!_

_Dave_

I nodded, giving a smile and sigh of relief. They were alive. I looked over at the other note and began to read.

_Krista_

_Been traveling with Dave and Tim._

_I wish I hadn't had to leave you like that_

_but they swarmed us so quickly. Unfortunately_

_I won't be staying with the other two, since I _

_got word of my mom being okay in Philly._

_I won't make you come for me. I just want _

_you to be safe._

_I love you._

_Martin_

I stared at the message for a moment, then looked over at Krista. "Will you follow him? That's heading towards the main breakout, isn't it?" They say patient zero was somewhere near Philadelphia; that that was where it all began. Why Martin's mother would still be there is a wonder.

"I dunno... I dunno, Keith, but...Martin... I..." She shook her head, sliding down against the wall to rest her head in her knees.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." I walked back over to the one couch, sitting with a sigh. "Let's...try and get some sleep, okay? I'll keep first watch." Krista gave a slow, distant nod and leaned against the side of the other cough, still sitting on the floor. It was like that for the majority of the night, though she must have fallen asleep eventually because her breathing became heavy and even. I spent hours reading those walls over and over. Reading those words of hope and devastation. Krista woke up some time past midnight and I didn't even notice till she touched my arm and told me I needed to sleep. I was gone as soon as I laid my head down.

"I'm sorry, Keith...but I have to find him... Good luck."

The next thing I knew I was waking up to the smell of burning.


	3. Close Yet Far

**AN: Here we go again. One or two people in the reviews have mentioned that Keith seems a bit out of character. Well, I'd have to say he may be a bit glum for good reasons. The world is ending and he's separated from his best friends. He's not always as cheery as Ellis. Hope that helps a little. Thanks for the reviews, everyone. **

**PS. By the way, that song playing on the radio in the first chapter was Caney Mountain by Ha Ha Tonka. **

You should never go alone at a time like this. Always keeps someone with you no matter what. Stay together to survive. In the back of their heads, a lot of people think that they are above those warnings; that it's full of crap and they would be perfectly fine on their own. But it's all a façade, really; a delusion. There isn't anyone in their right mind that could or would want to go through this on their own. You may be completely surrounded, but by nothing but walking corpses. You are truly, utterly alone.

-

I pushed myself off of the couch as I was thrown into a violent coughing fit. "Krista!" I wheezed out, looking around the safe room. Where was she? A piece of paper on the table caught my eye and I picked it up, reading the message written there. "Dammit, Krista. You couldn't wait one damn night?" The note was Krista's way of saying she couldn't wait till morning but she didn't want to wake me up either. After all, I was exhausted and she needed to find Martin as soon as possible. The note stated that she would wait three days for me in a safe house near Mercy Hospital once she had found Martin just in case I decided to follow.

But I couldn't. My plan had been to leave with her in the morning and take her to the next safe house heading north. I had hoped that we would come across more survivors by that time and that maybe she could travel with them instead of me since I couldn't stay with her. I needed to find my people and so did she. It seems that's why it all ended up like this.

"Shit." Coughing, I tossed the note aside and grabbed the shotgun off of the couch. I prayed for Krista's safety, but right now I needed to worry about myself. The room was quickly filling up with smoke and I was finding it hard to focus, which meant I was running out of oxygen and I needed to get out of here. My first instinct was to run to the door leading to the parking lot, but as I pushed the barricade aside, I realized there was no way I was getting out that way. The Tank had piled slabs of cement on and in front of the door during its fit. I had no way of forcing my way through.

I swore, looking to the opposite door leading into the apartments. A little fire never stopped me before, but fire and zombies were a bit of a different story. Kicking the door open, I ran through the flames that rushed in and threatened to swallow me. I held my breath and rushed past the burning bodies, some of them still moving, but didn't stop once to investigate. The smell was terrible and it was hard not to choke and the few small breaths I allowed myself as I ran down the halls. I came to a halt as I reached a cave in that blocked me from going any farther on the first floor; which meant the only way to go was up.

A cynical laugh was forced from my throat as I reloaded the gun. The door to the stairwell had been ripped from its hinges and through the passage a multitude of zombies could be seen clogging the way up, taking advantage of the small break in the flames. I cocked the gun back, grinning widely. "Come on you sons of bitches." Getting their attention, I ran into the stair well, pushing over undead and shooting them in the head as other rushed forward to meet my challenge. Screeching and growling echoed though the walls, attracting more and more infected as I plowed my way upwards. I forced myself through the horde, using the various fires to my advantage, shoving groups in at a time. Hits to my back caused me to turn around and fill the behind group with shotgun rounds, leaving only one still living. The final infected stared at me and gave a grunt as if confused what to do, so I chose for it, swinging the gun like a bat at the thing's face, causing it to cave in.

Satisfied with my work, I looked back down the hallway. I needed an open window. If there were any more infected in this part of the building, they were behind closed doors and I didn't want to try and open them unless I had to. I ran down the hallway, looking for any previously opened doors, finding one at the end that opened up to a corner apartment. Peeking in, I stepped about cautiously, hearing only the mad laughter of a Jockey from another room. I smirked, closing the door and taking a look around. Walking over to the living part of the room, I dropped the shotgun on the couch and grabbed the floor lamp standing next to it, turning it on and off.

"Still got power. Good and good." I hummed to myself, taking the shade off of the lamp and looking around the room. "Where _are _you, ya little face fucker?" I called out in a rather sing song voice. The laughter erupted again from another room and it came lumbering out of one of the two doorways. "Alright," I laughed as I picked up the floor lamp, readying myself for its leap. It leapt and I stepped forward, bringing the end of the lamp down and crushing the bulb into its face, sending volts of electricity through its already misshapen body. I dropped the lamp as the special infected dropped to the floor, convulsing and smoking. The thing didn't stop moving for maybe seven minutes and I stood watching it until it did.

I waited a moment longer before walking over to the nearest window, opening it and taking a deep breath of the freshest air I'd breathed in a while. Walking through the apartment, I looked for any other hiding infected while opening the other windows, trying to get the place as ventilated as possible. I walked to the master bedroom last and stopped in the doorway as I spotted a body leaning against the end of the bed. It didn't appear to be moving but I went over and kicked it in the foot just in case.

Nothing. Smiling slightly, I plopped myself down on the bed and closed my eyes for a moment. I was exhausted, but I knew I shouldn't stay in one place for too long, no matter how safe it felt. Opening my eyes, I felt myself stare off as my mind began to wander. It isn't until you stop and think that you realize how completely alone you are. I found myself thinking of the day before this all began. Of a painfully normal day that I had decided needed some action. I remember the three of us sitting on that hill we liked after getting a few burgers at the local diner, talking about doing some crazy stunt involving rockets and one of Kenny's chickens. They both called me crazy as usual so I pushed them over and used them both as cushions, lying on top of them.

Thinking back, I wish that day would have lasted forever. We all must have fallen asleep at one point because I remember waking up to darkness and the sound of crickets chirping, curled up against Ellis' evenly breathing body. Everything had seemed so right at the time; none of us could have thought things would go so terribly wrong the next day.

I'm not sure how long my thoughts went on like this, but that's all I seemed to be able to think about. Not health, not ammo, just how much I missed Ellis and Dave, and how much I needed to find them. A loud bang woke me from my thoughts and I sat up, looking around the darkening room. Had I dozed off? I must have, seeing as the sun seemed to be setting and the air had a thickening smokiness to it despite the open windows. Giving out a slightly frustrated cough, I got up off of the bed and looked around for the source of the bang. I pushed a hand through my messy red hair as I took a step towards the room's door but whirled around as I heard gun shots and shouting from the street below. Running to the window, I blinked and felt my eyes widen as I looked on the group making their way through the horde.

"Come on, come on, come _on, _people!" shouted a fairly large black man, leading the way. "We gotta make it to the mall!"

"Just _one _sec," replied a smaller black female as she drove a fire axe into the head of a near by zombie.

"Hurry it up, Ellis. You don't have to kill every single zombie you see," chided a man in a while suit, giving a deep frown.

"Yeah, yeah, _okay, _Mr. Smarty-pants!"

_Ellis. _I couldn't believe me eyes. There he was, running down the street with three people I'd never seen before in my life. But he was here; so close and so soon. I felt it was some kind of miracle that things had come so easy, but that was just it. Too easy. I barely had time to get excited about it before I knew something was wrong. "Ell-"

"Hey, you guys hear somethin?"

"Yeah, Ellis. _Zombies._"

I choked as I was pulled back by something that had wrapped around my neck. My first confirmation that the front door had been broken down was the flames that could be seen flickering in the living room. I was struggling to get away and pull the thing from my neck when I saw my second confirmation. There were now two others in the room with me; a Smoker and a Hunter that seemed somehow amused by my situation. The Smoker pulled its tongue back suddenly and I fell to the ground with a hard thud.

The sounds of gunshots and shouting were growing farther and farther away and I looked to the window desperately. He had been right there and now he was so far away. I had lost him again.

**Afterthought: Things will probably get a bit more violent and angsty from here... And...yeah. I may have to change the rating to M. Hahaha.. **


	4. Of Curses and Blessings

**AN: KEITH IS NOT DEAD NOR DO I INTEND ON KILLING HIM. Okay. Now that I've gotten that out... Sorry this took so long. I recently started my Spring quarter college classes and have been extremely busy. Also, because of that, sorry if it sucks art all... :I In this chapter, I'm introducing a past sequence/flash back. Let me know what you think. **

**Of Curses and Blessings**

I must be the most unlucky son of a bitch in the world. Though sometimes I thought I was the luckiest. It was always one extreme or the other, never anywhere in between. When I was younger, I had always assumed my bad luck was natural and that I was meant to live in an unloving environment.

My parents were constantly fighting while they were together in our tiny, broken down home on the edge of town, and when they weren't, they would take it out on me. Mom was by far the worst, having the mindset that my dad and I were both useless piles of shit that she had gotten stuck with. She was also one of the most unfaithful things you'd ever meet, having at least two different men a month to cheat on my father with. When they would leave her, it was always my fault and any excuse was good enough for her to take her frustration out on me. Even if she wasn't angry, she would find reasons to punish me, including boredom.

Dad's worst demon was his drinking. Either he was drinking at home or drinking at a bar. His addiction might have started when my mother started to become abusive, but I was so young at the time, I don't even remember it being any different. He wasn't as much physically abusive, but emotionally, giving me the title of any offensive, dirty object he could come up with in his drunken stupor. Granted I would get a bottle or a plate thrown at me once and a while, but he never really touched me. Most of my early scars came from my mother.

Just when I began to loose hope, a miracle happened and I made my first friend in the whole wide world. I had been walking back from shopping at the grocery store for my mom when I came across a whole lot of people bringing boxes into a house from a big truck. People were moving back and forth, too busy to notice anything else and I was watching one of the burley moving men when I noticed a kid standing off to the side. They looked about my age, but no matter how long I stared, I couldn't figure out of they were a boy or a girl. With a thin frame and wavy black hair that rested on their shoulders, it was really hard to tell.

I hadn't realized that I had been staring until they looked over with their bright emerald eyes and called out, "Hey!" They must have seen me jump from the sudden noise because they smiled and ran over. "That looks mighty heavy, carryin' all that," they said, looking over my load.

"Y-Yeah... Yeah, it is," I replied, stuttering slightly. "I'm used to it though... Bringin' it back for my mama..."

"Lemme help you it, anyhow. I ain't got nothin to do since they won't let me help bring stuff in." They moved forward, taking two of the bags from me before I could pipe out any form of protest. "Which way you live?"

"Um..." I stared at them for a moment longer before nodding down the road. "That way. I can assure you it ain't as pretty as yours though..."

They just smiled and started walking. "So? It's not like you can go around judgin' someone by the way their house looks. Just like their own appearance. My name's David, by the way. David Jones. Just moved here from Kansas with my parents. You can call me Dave, though. Not Davey. Don't want no one callin' me Davey Jones."

I just nodded and stared at them as we walked down the dusty road. So they were a boy; good to know. "Keith Taylor," I said after a moment. "I just turned eight about a week ago."

Dave's smile widened at that. "Guess that makes me about seven months older than you."

Giving a small smile, I nodded, stopping a bit down the road from my ramshackle house. "Uh... That's my house down there on the left... I can take it from here."

The black haired boy blinked, looking at the house. "It's still a way away, though," he objected.

"Yeah, I know..." I took the bags from him, shaking my head. "Don't want my mama to see. She gets mad if anyone helps me with my chores." I smiled, shrugging. "That don't mean I can't come hang with you some other time."

He grinned, his green eyes lighting up. "Yeah, deffinately." Turning, he waved. "Seeya some other time, then, Keith."

"Yeah, Seeya." I was smiling like a fool as I watched that boy run off down the road. It was against my mama's rules to have help or any friends for that matter; I didn't deserve them. Though as I thought about that trip back, I couldn't help but be filled with joy and not care about her damned _rules. _

The TV could be heard blaring from its place in the living room as I pushed myself through the front door. "Keith! Keith is that you?" my mom's voice bellowed from the same room. I swear, she had the ears of a cat.

"Hi, mama," I muttered, walking past her and into the kitchen. I could feel her glare daggers in my direction as I kept my own eyes forward, still unable to hide the smile on my face. My mother was an overweight woman with a full head of firey red hair like my own, unlike my father, who was balding and relatively skinny for how much he drank.

"Where the _hell've _you been, boy!? And get that damn smile off your face!"

"Just getting groceries, mama." I said calmly, putting things in the fridge.

That woman moved far too fast for what her body shape should have allowed. I swear she was in the kitchen within a second, smacking me to the ground and screaming in my ear. "Like hell you were! You expect me to believe you were just taking your grand old time with a _stroll!?_"

I picked myself up, not daring to rub my sore cheek. "A stroll, yeah, mama. And I made a friend along the way." Her eyes widened with a surprise of anger as I continued to put the food away, trying my best to keep the smile from growing too wide.

She grabbed me by my shirt, shaking me violently. "Don't you _ever _go see this little _friend _of yours, you _hear _me boy!? You ain't never allowed to have any friends 'cause you're just a pile'a _trash! Got it!?_" Throwing me to the floor, she retreated back into the living room, turning the volume of the television up even more.

Slightly dazed, I stayed on the floor with stars in my vision for quite a few minutes, pushing myself up to lean against the counter cabinets. I stared off in the direction she went slightly confused and still slightly dazed from hitting my head on the linoleum floor. That kind of reaction was rarely seen from my mother; that hidden fear of being denied. She had threatened me, yes, but that was a daily occurrence. This was different.

I broke out into the largest smile that had ever crossed my face.

For the first time in my life, I had beaten my mother.

If it was even possible, the relationship between my mother and I became worse after that day. She would come home less and less, but when she was, the punishment would be more frequent and harsh. My dad also began blaming me for my mother's absence, saying I was driving away a loving mother by being so disobedient. It seems his eyes were even more clouded than I originally thought.

Any sane person probably would have broken under such pressure, but luckily I was able to escape my prison on occasion and find solace. Dave was always there for me, be it day or night, and I was always able to find him.

Soon enough, my mother started coming up with reasons and ways to keep me from leaving the house, going as far as breaking my left leg in my bedroom door and telling the doctors I had jumped off the roof of our house. I stuck to the stories but none of it stopped me, and her lies began to give me ideas. There were things more dangerous in the world than my mother, and if I could face them, I could face _her. _Dave hated that idea.

It was about a month into my second grade year at school and I had started picking fights for the sake of picking fights, thinking it would make me stronger. That didn't sit to well with my mama when she got word of it from the school. I had barely made it through the front door that day after school before she grabbed me and threw me to the floor. She had said that if I wanted to pick a fight, I would pick it with her. That was probably the worst beating she'd ever given me, going to school the next day black and blue from head to toe. I think that was the first time Dave understood the full extent of my relationship with my mother.

"You gotta tell someone, Keith..." He'd said to me that day after school. My momma went around telling everyone that I had gotten into a fight with a neighbor's bull, but Dave knew better. "It ain't right what your mama does to ya..."

"Yeah, it ain't right... But it is how it is. I can't tell nobody, like they'd ever believe me."

Dave had nodded solemnly, wanting to argue further, but unable to find anything to counter with. And so the beatings continued and I still had no courage to speak up. My marks would vary anywhere from cuts and bruises to burns, and my mom would go around telling everyone that I did it do myself, looking for attention. Unfortunately, most seemed to believe it, which is why Dave was really my only friend. Parents would tell their kids to stay away from the bad kid with the red hair and bandages. Dave got a lot of fuss from it from the other kids too, but he stuck up for me. He was the only one who did.

A day about a week from then started like any other. I met Dave on the way to school and we walked the rest of the way together. He would also usually end up sharing his lunch with me since my mom never packed me my own and would hit me if she ever caught me taking food with me. I was sitting with him against the school's fence, nibbling on carrot stick when I heard shouts from across the playground. There were two third graders there, closing in on a first grader who held his lunch box to his chest protectively.

"I know what you're thinking," Dave said, watching me. "Don't you go doin something stupid, Keith."

I smiled, pushing myself off the ground, brushing myself off. "When do I ever do stupid things?" Shaking his head, Dave watched as I walked towards the conflicted trio. "Hey!" I shouted, putting on an angry face.

All three looked over and one of the older kids, a rather over weight boy, scowled, asking, "What do _you _want, psycho?"

"What do I want? I want you to lay your hands off my _pick, _fatso." I gave the younger boy a sort of look, hoping he would catch my drift. "Man, I picked this twig out this _morning_ so you better lay off."

Before the other two could say anything, the smaller boy pushed himself forward, putting on a frown. "Hey, I ain't no prize for you to claim, man." He gave the briefest of smiles before suddenly pushing me. "Go find someone else to pick on."

I stumbled back before grinning wildly, shoving back. "Ya wanna _fight, _boy?" The smaller boy lunged at me, getting a clean punch at my jaw. Without hesitating, I returned the blow, and the cycle continued, the two bullies staring and eventually walking away, muttering something about crazies.

Dave ran over, frowning as the other two boys left. "What in the hell is goin _on _over here?"

Falling backwards as the last punch was thrown, the two of us broke out into laughter, the younger boy now sitting on top of me. "Man, that was the darndest thing," he said with a giggle. "You got a funny way of rescuin' people, but ya did it all the same. Thanks very much." He took his hat off, revealing a head of dirty blond curls and held up the lunchbox that he never let go of. "My name is Ellis. Those bullies were tryin' ta take my lunch that my mama made special for me. No way I was gonna give it up, but you guys can have some if ya want. She always makes me too much. What're your names, by the way?" Ellis looked down at me with those big blue eyes and gave me that little lopsided smile he took kindly to and my heart nearly broke.

I had decided to be a hero for this kid today, but here he was sitting on top of me. My _second _savior; I could feel it. Dave gave his name as I continued to stare and I heard him say something about me needing to breathe. Ellis nodded energetically, getting up off of me, allowing me to sit up. I smiled, looking at him. "My name's Keith."

"Well, Keith, I'm thinkin' the three of us're gonna be the best've friends from now on." Both Dave and I nodded in agreement.

He was right.

I cried out as a sharp pain in my side brought me back to reality. Suddenly, I was back in that burning apartment building, not the Savannah of my childhood. The fire had begun to eat away at the living room and I could hear the walls cracking from the heat. Sharp claws continued to dig themselves into my side as I winced and looked at the Hunter that had crossed the room and was now on top of me. It bared its teeth and growled, seemingly annoyed with my daydreaming.

Staring at the thing, I couldn't wrap my head around why I wasn't dead yet. These things just aim to kill, right? Yet these two seemed to be taking their time, like they were toying with me. The Smoker behind me adjusted the tongue around my neck as if to remind me it was there, causing me to shiver. There was no one to save me this time; I needed to get myself out somehow.

Moving as quickly as I could, I brought my knees up to my chest and kicked the Hunter in the face, causing it to fall back with a yelp of pain. I grabbed the tongue around my neck with a hard yank, loosening its grip. Forcing myself up, I made a mad dash for the window. If I could make it to the fire escape, I was sure that I would make it out alive.

Unfortunately for me, they had other plans Just as I reached the window, the Hunter screeched in anger, pouncing on me and knocking me through the three story window, shattering the glass. The only noise that came from me was the sound of something cracking as the wind was knocked out of me on the hard cement below.

Blackness and stars swelled in my vision as I tried to pull myself back together, noticing first how cold and wet I was suddenly. Rain had started to pour down, slowly waking me from my spinning daze and alerting me of the immense pain in my back. I pulled in an agonizing breath as my mind began to race with questions of my safety. Was anything broken? How bad were the cuts from the window? Where were the special infected?

My answers came in the form of a low growl behind me and a wracking cough from somewhere above. Pushing myself up to rest on my elbows, I ignored the pain that shot up my spine and looked for the Smoker. It stood on the fire escape, looking down on me with its blazing yellow eyes.

I grinned up at the special infected and wrapped my hand around a larger shard of glass laying to my left, feeling its sharp edges cut into my skin. "C'mon, ya stupid things... That all you got?" It was probably _not _a good idea to taunt either of the zombies watching, if they could even _understand_, but when had that ever stopped me before, right? Besides, I needed to get going. The more time I spent here, the father away Ellis got, and there was no way anything these to did would stop me.

Surprisingly enough, the Smoker only seemed annoyed as it dropped down from the cast iron balcony with a crunch as broken glass ground under its boots. The Hunter, on the other hand, seemed genuinely peeved as it leaped at me with a threatening growl. I turned despite the pain, slashing at its face with my piece of glass, causing it to retreat with a yelp. Two muscular tongues shot out at lightening speed and wrapped themselves painfully around my chest, alerting me that _now _the Smoker was pissed. Gasping painfully, I grabbed at the moist tendrils as they wrapped farther and tighter around my chest and abdomen, applying a crushing amount of pressure to my insides.

The Hunter growled, hurt and angry, as it crawled back over, a long gash across its darkened eyes. Its claws found their way to my lower back, digging deep into the already scarred flesh. I bit down the pain as much as I could, refusing to scream as the pouring rain thinned my flowing blood, and tried my best to wriggle free, though every inch of my body screamed in protest at the movement. Seeming once again amused by the situation, the Smoker walked idly over to where it had me bound. It clawed at one of my arms, making me cry out from the sudden increase in pain and release my hold. Giving a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like laughter, the Smoker tightened its tongues around me and slammed me into the nearest wall, causing my head to crack against the ragged brick and stars in darkness to burst in my vision once again.

I desperately tried to recover as the blackness faded in and out, bright flashes of lightening breaking through the haze. "C'mon...freaks..." I muttered through my pained fog. "Do your god damned _worst..._ Ain't nothin' gonna stop me from findin' him..." My slurred invitation was answered by a searing pain in my right arm that forced out a short scream as another pain was introduced to the crook of my neck. I struggled the best I could as strength and consciousness continued to leave me. In a time of hopelessness, though, I never really lost hope. As darkness swallowed me completely, I forced out a small, raspy laugh.

I had meant what I said.

They wouldn't stop me.

**NOT DEAD. **


	5. On The Edge Of Hope And Nothingness

**AN: Hi all! I'm not dead, I swear. College just got the best of me. Either way I would just like to thank those of you who have read this and enjoyed it. And of course, any feedback is welcome! Always looking to improve! :] Now without further adue, here you go. Hope you like it!**

"Dad, I'm home!"

Around ten years had passed since the initial defiance of my mother and the discover of my two best friends. It may sound a little cliché, but meeting the two of them literally changed my life for the better. Though as they say, things always get worse before they get better.

My mother continued to come up with new, twisted way to keep me inside and away from my friends, even going as far as poisoning my dinner one night. The vomit didn't stop until a week later, but I still managed to fight through it most days. Eventually, it seems, she realized that nothing she could do would stop me from living the life I wanted.

She got up early one day while I was making breakfast and proceeded to storm over, pick up the hot spatula, and whip me across the face with it. The usual string of insults followed, accompanied by a familiar warning of her leaving forever. That time, however, I had felt that he had meant it.

"I'm fed up with you two losers and this hell hole. There are better things out there for me. Better men. I hope you enjoy rotting in your own _filth_."

That door slamming had been music to my ears.

"Kath... Katherine!" came a slurred call from the living room. "Don't you be bringin' one of'm _boys _with ya, Katherine..."

"Mom's not here, dad." I corrected him, bringing my recently purchased groceries to the kitchen. With my mother gone, I was the only one left to supply for my father an I, so I worked two jobs on top of going to school every day. It was never a lot, but it was enough. "She hasn't been in months."

An angry inaudible string of slurred gurgles came from my father after a series of crashes that sounded like glass. I sighed slightly, putting things away. I would have to clean that up so he didn't step on it. Getting out a frying pan, I prepared to make a grilled cheese, pickles, and ketchup sandwich – my dad's favorite. I wanted to get out as soon as possible since Ellis and Dave had apparently planned something "special" for my birthday, but my dad came first.

He woke himself from the drunken slumber he has slipped into during the few minutes of silence by dropping the tv remote onto the floor, it hitting an empty bottle with a resounding _ding. _"That...that food ready yet?" I sighed quietly to myself and put on a small smile as I brought over the sandwich plate and set it on the tray next to my dad's chair. Before I could walk away to clean up the previously broken glass, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me down and slurring something incomprehensible. "What?" I questioned with a slight frown.

"Keith..." he managed to spit out. "All these... All these years... You... You been such a good boy an' we... We just..."

"It's okay, dad," came my usual response to these now common, slurred confessions.

The grip on my wrist lessened, and I was about to walk away before he sputtered one more thing. "H-Happy... Happy Birthday..." I turned back and stared at him for what seemed like a very long time.

And then, for the first time in what felt like forever, I gave my father a true smile.

"Thanks."

_'...I fell into a burnin' ring of fire...'_

Everything hurt.

_'...I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher...'_

And I mean everything. I felt like every inch of me was screaming in agony. The loudness of the radio didn't help my head much.

"...Radio..?"

"You awake, son? Had me worried for a while, there."

"What..." I opened my eyes a crack and instantly regretted it, wincing against the sudden light.

"You were pretty banged up back there. Kinda surprised you were still breathing, having fallen out of that window like that. You were all cut up!"

"Window..?"

"Now, most people would've passed you by, thinking you were an infected, but not me. Don't worry, of course I checked. From what I can see, you don't have any of the signs of being infected, just injured." There was a pause before the other voice spoke again. "Gotta keep as many people alive as we can, right? I patched you up the best I could, but you'll be in much better hands once we get to the next CEDA station. The one in Savannah's closed down."

I opened my eyes a bit more as the man to my left admitted how he was amazed that I hadn't been eaten alive. It seemed I was in the passenger's seat of a moving car going...somewhere. The constant noise from the radio hurt my head and I could tell the AC was on, but I was burning up. "Could you...turn the radio down, sir?"

"Oh sure!" the man said, turning the volume down, "You must be one lucky guy for me to have found you when I did. Otherwise, you probably would've been a goner. The name's Murphy, by the way."

"K-Keith..." My head was swimming and I almost found it funny how much the man driving the car reminded me of a teacher I had had my sophomore year of high school, even the way his gray beard poofed out around his round face. I brought my hands up to my head and held it in hopes of stopping the persistent throbbing that had taken up residence there. "You...found me? Where? How? I was...looking for my friends..."

"I'm sure your friend are fine, Keith," said the man named Murphy. "And yes, I found you lying in an alley way next to the Wood Side Apartments back in Savannah. You were pretty cut up and surrounded by glass. It looked to me as if you'd fallen from the third story window. You were also drenched from the rain. Lucky I had some towels in my trunk."

I looked down at the seat I was buckled into and noticed for the first time that I was indeed wrapped in towels. "The alley... There was-!" I lurched forward as I was filled with a sudden panic and automatically returned to my previous position when and even greater pain shot through my body. "Agh!"

"Settle down! You're gonna reopen your wounds! Now calm down and tell me... There was what?"

Cringing, I looked out the window at the swampy scenery that went by. "I... I don't remember..."

"That's alright," he said after a while. "Don't you worry. Everything's gonna be okay."

The next few minutes seemed to fly by in an instant. One second, we were driving through a hazy town, then next, the car was being rammed off the road like it were nothing. I had barely registered what had happened before Murphy was pulling me out of the car, which at some point had run into a street lamp.

"C'mon, kid, get up! We need to get to safety!" He managed to pull me out of the car before being forced to let go as a Charger (the probable car rammer) came through, taking him about 100 feet away before slamming him into the pavement repeatedly. I remember him gasping out one final plea for me to save myself as his bones were crushed, but none of it really reached me. I was in too dense a fog of pain and confusion to even try and help him. Though even as the burning pain continued to crawl its way through my body, I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't being attacked. Barely any of the surrounding infected seemed to even notice I was there.

And I was just _standing _there. Truthfully, I would have been a very easy target.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to move on, wrapping my arms around myself in attempt to lessen the pain in my chest. Nothing made sense to me right now, but I knew I needed to keep going.

It had slowly been getting dark by the time I forced myself to stop and look around. A light drizzle had begun to fall and it hazed my vision all the more. Not that it really mattered; I had no idea where I was. "Maybe I should stop and ask for directions..." I bit down as a choked laugh escaped me, amused at my own comment. One or two of the near infected might have glanced over at the sudden noise, but did little else. "What the hell is going on here..." I muttered, my smile falling once more.

A noise in the distance caught my attention and I paused, listening again. Gunfire...and a car? Maybe it was all in my head. It was a good possibility considering the past few hours of pain and delirium. Things were starting to fade together. But there it was again.

Gunfire.

Closer this time.

I turned to see if I could be a glimpse of the source but was soon brought to my knees by another wave of pain that forced me to heave my stomach contents onto the pavement. My wracking coughs that followed gained a bit more attention from the infected around me, some of them turning their heads to see what the commotion was all about. It seemed to be enough of a distraction for them not to notice the jeep that zoomed up, guns blazing from the passengers inside.

"Come on! Let's do this is as quick as possible! We've got hungry mouths to feed back at camp!"

Four or five people pushed themselves out of the vehicle and ran towards the convenience store across the street from where I knelt. I stared, watching as they brought out bags of supplies and piled it into the jeep, killing infected as they went. They were so close; just across the street. I only needed to reach them.

"Hey..." I managed to croak out, though was sure it was too quiet to be heard.

One of the scavengers turned around and aimed its gun in my direction, then froze, staring at me.

"What?" asked another as they were getting into the driver's seat of the jeep. "What the hell are you looking at?"

"Look."

I knew those voices. I squinted, trying to get a better look at them.

"No fucking way..."

The first one to notice pointed his gun away and took a step forward.

"Son, I suggest you get back in the jeep," said a baritone voice, the first one to speak before.

"No... Wait, that's..."

"Dave, come on," said the driver.

"No."

"He's probably already–"

"Tim, shut up!"

He took a few steps forward and continued to stare, mumbled conversation continuing behind in between gun shots. I stared right back at him as he crept ever closer. I knew him. "Keith..? Keith, is that you?"

That was it. It was him. I knew him. "...D-Dave?"

"Aw, Jesus Christ, Keith!" he said, now running towards me and dropping to my level, both relief and worry showing on his face. "Are you okay? What happened? How'd you get here? Are you by yourself?"

"By... yeah... By myself..."

"Christ, man..." He was helping me up now. "How in the world did you manage that?"

I laughed, causing myself further pain and muttered. "I...guess it's a good thing I'm indestructible."

Dave pushed a smile through his worry, and another emotion seemed to show through his eyes as he wrapped his arm around me, helping me to the jeep, though I couldn't figure it out. "Yeah. Now, c'mon Superman, let's get you to safety." He helped me into the back of the vehicle then climbed in himself, giving the others a nod of assurance.

Slumping against the side of the open car, I could feel the gaze of the other survivors on me; most of all Tim's, his dark green eyes watching me wearily before turning to the road ahead. Tim Jones was Dave's older brother, though I hadn't known about him until a few months later when he and his father came to Savannah as well. He had a habit of keeping things to himself, but had always been a big brother to _all _of us, making sure we were alright and helping us when he could. The look he had given me was a little unnerving, but I knew he was just being cautious.

I flinches as a cold water bottle touched my arm and I noticed that Dave was talking to me again. "You gotta drink some water, Keith… You're probably dehydrated as heck…" It was a moment before his words registered and I reached for it as he uncapped the bottle.

"Where…where're we goin...?" I carefully brought the water up and took a small sip, choking slightly at the sudden cold and biting down harder coughs that threatened to make me lose my grip. Dave's hand on me shoulder nearly made me flinch just as bad.

"There's a camp further in, Keith… We've been safe there. CEDA's supposed to pick us up in a day or so. We're gonna be okay, alright?"

Smiling tiredly, I slumped even more against the interior of the vehicle, staring off and nibbling at the rim of the water bottle. Again, I felt this was too good to be true, but even as my paranoia pulled at the edges of my subconsciousness, nothing terrible happened. No Tank smashing the jeep, no Smoker lassoing anyone…

Nothing.

I felt sleep creeping over me even through the rough driving and I decided to let it, getting more and more convinced that I was safe now.

I was back among friends.

**AN: It's not over yet, believe me. You know, the more I think about it, the less sense it makes for Tim to actually be in this story. In the original story by me that I got my concept of Dave from, Tim would have left Savannah long before the outbreak hit… Oh well! I'll just keep going how it is. If you're any more curious about Tim and Dave's background and story, I've begun posting a few things on my deviantART. ****.com**

…**I kind of wanted to add in a part where Tim was playing "chicken" with a Charger, but it just didn't fit in, ha ha. **


End file.
